Adele Dance Party and Christian Liberty

My niece Kaela is a fierce mass of kinetic energy.  I often tease her with a game I call, Be Completely Still.  I'll hold her while she lays across my lap, eyes closed tightly-constantly twitching while her hands and feet wiggle at the ends of otherwise still appendages.  She cannot be still, unless she's sleeping.

I have come to love this about her and honestly, the day she is able to play and win Be Completely Still, I'll have a twinge of sadness for the end of her exuberant youth.  Hopefully by then, all the jitters will be replaced with vibrant conversation.

Earlier this month we got together as extended family to celebrate my dad's birthday.  After dinner and dessert we sat around the living room while the kids played.  In a short time we were being treated to a singing rendition of Adele's Hello from McKenna and an interpretive dance from Kaela.

Now, McKenna can sing.  She can hold a note, she is on pitch, she even has a vibrato.  She's a singer.  Knowing the vulnerability of singing, I listen, I smile, and I applaud.

Kaela can sing, but her forte is dancing.  She is unabashed, free spirited, and high intensity.  It was during this song that she was twirling with a vengeance and then went into the highest velocity windmill arm wind up I have ever seen.  I can picture this kid knocking some other kid out with a wild fast pitch softball in her future.

It was this move that struck my funny bone and I laughed.  I laughed with a loud boisterous raucous laughter.  The kind of laugh you cherish as they seem to be few and far between.  She was so blasted adorable with her determined little face, arm blending into the scenery around her for moving so fast.

One moment I was looking at her, the next, she disappeared.  Before I knew what happened she was on the floor crying.  Her father picked her up and he held her.  I was sitting directly across from her.   It was getting late, and I was told she gets sensitive when she is tired, but I needed to make it right.

I asked her to come over to me and she did.  I asked if I hurt her feelings, she said yes.  I asked if she thought I was laughing at her to make fun of her, she said yes.  I apologized and said I was laughing because sometimes I laugh when something is so cute because I don't know what else to do.  She said, "You could have done this" as she held her tiny hand up to her mouth as to pantomime hiding laughter.  See...adorable.

I told her I was sorry and that I was not laughing at her, that I was laughing because she was funny.  Talk about memories.  I was that child.  I remember not understanding the difference.  I really thought my parents and older siblings were lying with that one.  Even as I said it, I knew it was a losing nuance on the limited experienced mind of a five year old.  I know she will grow to learn the difference, but right now, she doesn't give a hoot about it.

And so, I apologized again, and asked if she would dance for us a second time.  She said no.  I promised not to laugh.  She said, but everyone else will laugh.  I assured her, they would not.  My hope was that she would give me another chance, but more so that she would not let my laughter keep her from doing what she loved.

Before long, she got up, turned on the song and danced.  My goodness, what a strong little spirit.  She is an example to me, she has no clue what a spitfire she is and how much I want to be like her.  I smiled through the whole thing, but didn't laugh.  It wasn't funny to me anymore.  This time, it was beautiful. 

On the way home I thought about the situation.  I was disappointed with myself for laughing so loudly, I should have known better.  Then I thought about other times she did similar things, and the laughter didn't bother her.  On the other hand, she's older now, she's going to school, she has many more messages coming at her constantly and that self awareness, that double edged sword, that blasted and glorious self awareness is very real to her now.  She's still learning it.

And so I thought that though it wasn't wrong to laugh, it hurt someone I care about.  To protect someone I love, I happily gave up my right to laugh based on the fact that she thought it was malicious.  Her thinking it was malicious didn't make it wrong, it made it hurtful.  I am free to laugh, I am free not to laugh.  I am free to dance, free not to dance.  Free to drink alcohol because Jesus drank wine not grape juice (stop lying to people), free not to drink alcohol.  Being right isn't as important as being protective or showing love.

Who knew an obnoxious laugh and an adorable determined dancer could lead to such a revelation? Well, I guess that is just another example of how God can redeem anything. 

Peace

© 2016 Stacy Rapp

Puzzles, Rivers, White Socks, And A Dirty Mouth

Last week I took a few vacation days and headed up to Albany, NY.  Quite honestly, Albany has never been on my bucket list, but I recently heard about the tulip festival they have in Washington Park.  The big brouhaha is Mother's Day weekend, but I figured a few days after the festivities, the flowers should be just as beautiful.  Plus, I saw on Facebook a post about a bakery called Puzzles in Schenectady.  This bakery employs adults with developmental disabilities.  I love a mission like that, and I thought I'd go check it out and see the flowers to boot.

So, I head up on a Tuesday and check in to my room and go back out to explore.  Unfortunately, by the time I got to the park to take pictures of the tulips, the rain said hello.  The last thing I wanted to do was walk around in the rain with my camera, so I headed over to the bakery.

The bakery was beautiful inside.  Not just the building, but the young man behind the counter was kind, professional, and full of purpose, I dare say excitement.  If we all attacked our work with the realization of purpose this young man had, this world would be a wonderful place.

Armed with my oatmeal raisin cookie, I decided to go to the riverfront park the owner of Puzzles had told me about during my chat with her.  Thankfully the rain had ended and I could stroll about.  That is the idea I had in my head anyway.

Once I got to the park, I saw that it was very sparsely populated, down a shady looking street, and the walking path was right along the river.  If there were many people there, maybe I wouldn't have been freaked out.  My park mates consisted of one teen swinging on a swing set much to young for him, a burly many with a pit bull, and a meandering couple.  The sum total of my surroundings and the fact that I was traveling alone made my Criminal Minds first girl killed radar go into a tizzy.  I decided no cookie eating river stroll is worth the possibility of being pushed into the river by some meandering psycho dog walking swinger.  I got the freak out of there.

The next day I got back to the park with the tulips.  Once I was at the flower beds I pulled out my camera from my bag and realized my wallet was missing.  Panic quickly subsided when I realized I must have left it in the car when I took just my wallet in the cafe to get coffee.  When will I learn to always return my wallet and my keys to the same place - every time?!

 

 

 I reassure myself, the wallet is 90% definitely in my car, and that my car would not be broken into and I would not be stranded in Albany.  I start taking pictures.  The flowers were beautiful.  I imagine myself in Holland.  Children play in a large wooden shoe replica and I swear I hear them speaking Dutch to one another.  A bucolic respite amidst the hubbub of Albany. 





Now, I realize to some traveling alone is their worst nightmare.  I have to say, I find an over night trip of exploring a different place really interesting.  Any longer than a day there and back and I feel strange because the only conversations are with people serving you.  The hotel workers, food servers, ticket takers, etc.  The occasional chat with a stranger is fine, but no real deep meaningful connection there. 

 I also realize that to the family with the small children playing in the wooden shoe, they might be wondering why someone is alone with a camera, taking pictures that may or may not have their children captured in the background.  Being mindful of the composition of my shots and the direction I am facing, I find the task of getting any wide angle shots nearly impossible.  That is nearly impossible without looking like a creeper.  So, I get some close flower shots and take in the beauty for a moment, and start walking back to my car. 

Moments after I leave Holland, I see a man cutting across the grass walking toward me.  I think he is a landscaper at first, but I quickly realize he is homeless.  He approaches having pulled out two of the longest and whitest tube socks I have ever seen.  For a quick second I think to myself, he is going to strangle you with those.  Then he puts them neatly away in his pockets.

"Ma'am, can I ask you a question?" (Note he called me ma'am! Et tu homeless guy?!!!!)

"What's Up?" making sure I am keeping my distance.

"I gotta get out of this city."

I say, "Okay..."

"Yeah, I gotta get out of Albany, I feel like the devil is keeping me here, you know?"

"Okay, what is your question?" Sometimes I am literal to a fault. 

"I just gotta get out of here man." I wish for ma'am. 

Finally realizing, "Oh, I don't have my wallet with me."

He looks at me with the disappointment of someone hurt by the actions of another with whom they actually have a relationship.   

"Isn't that convenient for you, you know, you just summed up what the whole problem is with Albany."

"I honestly don't have my wallet with me.  Are there places that can help you?"

"Oh, people like you love to bring that up don't you? Let someone else take care of the problem.  You never helped a person a day in your life!"

"Honestly Sir, you don't know me."  I begin to walk away.

I hear him shouting as he walks the other direction, "Your parents raised you this way.  You @&*$*%& @%#$&, you don't care about anyone but yourself!"

I am walking to my car more quickly now, muttering to myself how fascist this guy is.  I sat in my car, looked for my wallet, it was there.  I looked to see where the man was.  He was far away from me now.  I scour the landscape for the ever elusive John Quinones, once again, he is not there.

Driving away, I begin thinking about the strange experience and how funny it is that I wasn't scared.  I mean, once he put the socks away I didn't think he would harm me, even though he was angry.  And then I thought it was strange that I wasn't angry.  He said I didn't help people, yada, yada, yada, how dare he?  He doesn't know me.   Really, he was just mad he didn't get what he wanted.  If it wasn't me, it would have been anyone else.

And then I remembered what he said about the devil keeping him in Albany.  The devil does try to keep us in places we don't want to be.  He tries to accuse us of things that at one time, may have been true about us.  He tries to remind us of past wrongs we've done or the good things we should have done.  He uses whatever he can use to get us focused on ourselves, then we are rendered useless to do good.

At one time, it would have been true I didn't help people and I only cared about myself.  And truthfully, sometimes that is still true.  But there is a beautiful picture of rest that comes in knowing who you are, knowing whose you are,  and knowing accusations don't prove guilt.  There is rest in knowing any dirt the devil wants to sling at me, isn't mine to deal with anymore.  I gave it to Jesus, and He's taken care of it all.  The devil is just mad he doesn't get what he wants.  And when he gets angry and starts to yell at me, and accuse me of things that may or may not be true, all I can do is say, honestly sir, you don't know me, and walk away.  All the while knowing I am robbed in whitest white courtesy of the blood of Jesus.  

Rev. 12:1-12 
¹⁰ Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say:

“Now have come the salvation and the power
    and the kingdom of our God,
    and the authority of his Messiah.
For the accuser of our brothers and sisters,
    who accuses them before our God day and night,
    has been hurled down.
¹¹ They triumphed over him
    by the blood of the Lamb
    and by the word of their testimony;
they did not love their lives so much
    as to shrink from death.
¹² Therefore rejoice, you heavens
    and you who dwell in them!
But woe to the earth and the sea,
    because the devil has gone down to you!
He is filled with fury,
    because he knows that his time is short.”

If you ever get to Albany, I hope you enjoy the flowers and the beautiful capitol.  And if you should hap upon a homeless man with the whitest tube socks this side of the Mississippi, please tell him I say hey, my parents are well, thank you.

© 2015 Stacy Rapp

  

When The Good Is Better Than Great

I never liked that Good Friday was called Good Friday.  Even as a kid it didn't make sense to me, every time I heard the story in Sunday School I imagined it with a different ending.  A good ending where Judas didn't betray Jesus, where He didn't have to die, and God's kingdom on earth was established.  Instead the story always ended the same and I couldn't figure it out, what was good about the crucifixion? I would hear people explain that it wasn't really good on Friday, but it was good that on Sunday that Jesus rose from the grave, so the crucifixion was good, we just had to wait three days to realize it.  I was pacified for a while, and then as I grew in faith, I had more questions. 

Later, I questioned "good" again because I really didn't like Romans 8:28, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." I would hear this verse in testimonies where it often had the formula of A (I was unsure and afraid of something terrible) + B (I prayed and handed everything over to God) = C (everything was fine/the test came back clear/happiness) in other words - good.  Only it wasn't always good, for every testimony following this formula, there was one where the 'good' never came.

If you know me, when I have a question, I want an answer, and if I have to, I'll ask it again, and again, and again.  It is a blessing and a curse. 

One day I was talking with a friend who had studied the Bible extensively regarding my question of what does good really mean.  Good in the context of the verse was never to mean happiness or what I want or favor or easy living.  They told me it meant righteousness, redemption, justification, glorification, knowing God more fully, etc.  And then good made sense.  The proper definition of good made the seeming contraction between life and the Bible disappear. 

I like good now, good is great.  Good is difficult to get through because often those "in all things" can encompass some pretty unpleasant life experiences.  While I don't like those things, the good is even better than I thought it could be, even better than great.  

So, Good Friday, the event that made my righteousness, redemption, justification, glorification, ability to know God possible.  I find it aptly named, and I praise the One who in the garden poured out His heart to the Father and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” (Matt. 26:39)  In His obedience, even unto death (Phil. 2:8), the Father worked out Jesus' "in all things" for the good of the world.  

I found this video recently which really explains things well, so for more on the meaning of good, please hear what John Piper has to say. 

Romans 8:28, Part 1 // All Things Work Together for Good from Desiring God on Vimeo.


© 2015 Stacy Rapp

Time Change

At the end of every year I am amazed at the passage of time from one year to the next. It is this big celebration, a countdown for the last ten seconds and then a hooray of Happy New Year, only to be quite evident that time marches on. No blank slates appear, wrongs from the past year are not automatically righted, and our issues pass the threshold of time right along with us.

I remember those classes in high school were you watched the clock a little more than in some of the other classes. Whether it was a test and you wanted to see how much time was left to finish, or you were just so bored you couldn't possibly believe only ten minutes passed since your last glance at the clock. It was on one of these occasions I realized the difference in time pieces and how some marked the seconds with a staccato stop at each mark and some moved along like a slow continuous whirling dervish. There is no stop in time. Time was started and is off on a roll that none but the Almighty may alter.

Sure, we give ourselves a bit of importance by having a leap day to make up time or changing the hours to give us daylight when we want, but ultimately we are confined to time and that is how it rolls.

The fluid nature of time will certainly not respect the epicness of New Year's Eve celebrations whether Dick Clark, Guy Lombardo, or the now sobered up Germans celebrating with George Washington be present. It is that truth that is comforting and terrifying all the same. Comforting because there is simply nothing within our power to alter it, and terrifying because it is a runaway train we all are hopeless to catch.

Each year I have a hope, a desire for so many things to be different within the span of time known as the year. And yet, there are many occasions that nothing is much different at the end of the year. So many times I'm looking for the circumstances to change, only to realize that whether they change or not, the same person, me, is following them.

And so it is with the passing of 2014 that I find there are very few circumstances changed, and yet the person experiencing them, me again, has changed significantly. You may notice or not notice. And truthfully, I'd be surprised if anyone could notice yet because I'm still learning about what my new normal is.

My new normal is that though I have been a Christian for years, I am learning to love God. I know, let's get spiritual Stacy.  I promise, I'm not a wacko religious nut, one step a way from Tebowing at at the market when I find the perfect avocado. You see, this year has continued me on a journey to see just how precious I am to God. His word is His love letter that I need to read and re-read with that realization again and again.  I am amazed at the feeling of "He said that to me?!" And here is the best thing, I don't have to question His motive because by default, it is pure.

I think it is like Moses being able to see God's shadow, I couldn't possibly process a full on realization of the love of God. From songs, to experiences, to the written Word, it is a layering of Truth and understanding that will last until my dying breath when I will see Him with unveiled face and have the full realization, that should I experience it this side of heaven, would surely leave me catatonic.

Yet, there will be times when like Peter I see him.  I am walking on the water toward Him and then I see the crap load of chaos around me and start to focus on that and sink. Praise him for that hand to pull me up out of the water, whether it be His or that of His children here.

The best part, I don't believe it is any part of myself that makes me worthy or deserving of any of it. The most peaceful thing I have known is that I am not capable of doing anything to earn His favor and better yet, am not capable of doing anything to lose His favor. What? totally accepted despite performance, attitude, success, accomplishment, style, hair, makeup, ability, ....Yes! Completely without ability within myself to be any more or less than loved with His perfect love.

And the awesome thing is that it goes for you as well. I have met my share of people that drive me nuts. Jerk?, I am too. Hypocrite?, right here. Sinner?, present....what are you? So am I. This truthful assessment has helped me in wanting to minister in my imperfect state, the perfect love of God.

I have had the opportunity to give time and money to the Salvation Army, international giving organizations, my church, my family, and my work. And yet, there are times when I get prideful in giving to organizations or I miss the closer to home opportunities with family and friends. And here is the question I have been asked by the Spirit, "What do you have that was not given to you?" "When have you acted selfishly toward your family and friends?" And He says, what I have given, share, and what I have forgiven, forgive. Oh the daily practice of this that ends in failure all to often, and yet, when I obey, the blessings are multiplied.

There is too much to sum up a year of Truth from God in this post, but I am so excited that this year a new year has dawned, that the passing of one is not much noticeable, and that the unchangeable God is able to change me. For so long I have been believing that He is able to change anything and everything, and yet, wanting Him to change everything else but me. Now I am realizing that to allow Him to change me is the only change in which I have any control. My prayer is that whatever comes with the passing of time, I stay close to the one who transcends time, waiting for the "hour" when I will not have to mark time, either by staccato, or fluid motion.

© 2014 Stacy Rapp

Sacrifice of Praise

The meal has been cooked, the food has been eaten, the dishes are done, and I am very tired.  I wanted to write a bit about Thanksgiving and something I saw on Twitter today.  Twitter has really become a spot for advertising to continue round the clock.  I saw a quick video for someone promoting their Christmas movie.  They started by stating that this is a time to be happy, not grumpy, and that we should all watch their movie.  I don't really care about the movie, I'm not terribly offended for being sold to on Thanksgiving, I'm more disturbed with the notion that Thanksgiving and the act of giving thanks is often equated with happiness.

Can we be happy and thankful? Absolutely.  Is it a requirement? No.  Thankfulness and happiness are not mutually inclusive.  I've been thinking a lot today about people who have struggled with so much in the last year, in the last months, weeks, days.  Life does not take a holiday for holidays.  People still have struggles, people need to go to the hospital, relationships remain broken, needs remain unmet.  Loss can be so in the forefront of our lives, and yet, we give thanks.

I have been thinking about the European settlers and the "First Thanksgiving".  Half of the people who started out the journey were dead by the time the celebration happened.  Half! Look at the person next to you, they would be gone and you would be celebrating a feast of thankfulness without them.  Those present to celebrate were as every bit unsure of the future as they had been the year prior, probably looking around wondering if they'd all make it to the next year.  I don't know how "happy" the first Thanksgiving really was! Yes, I'll be spreading cheer during the Christmas season as well...you're welcome.

My point is not to be depressing.  It truly isn't.  My hope is to be in some way encouraging to those who may not find themselves happy this Thanksgiving.  To those who feel like they don't know how they made it through the last year, to those who may not have much hope for things to be different in the year to come, I say, give thanks in whatever emotion you find yourself at this moment.  Thankfulness is not an absence of loss or sorrow or trouble.  Thankfulness is a discipline and can happen simultaneously with gut wrenching, heart felt pleadings to God for our situations to be different, for health to be restored, or for understanding and healing in relationships.

Hebrews 13:15-16
¹⁵ Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that openly profess his name. ¹⁶ And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.

There is a cost to sacrifice.  Something must die.  In the old testament, it was an animal, in the New Testament, it was Jesus Himself, the ultimate sacrifice.  In the sacrifice of praise, it is symbolically, ourselves.  To praise, to thank, we need to humble ourselves to the point we can say thank you.  We need to acknowledge we needed something, to acknowledge we received something we could not attain ourselves.  Or we need to be humble enough to say thank you even for the unfulfilled dreams or for losses.  I'm not always happy when I am humbled.  I'm usually happy when I get what I want.  I'll say thank you all day when I get what I want.  But when nothing seems to be going well, and everything you don't want seems to be showing up at your door, will you say thank you?  Will you sacrifice your desires, your anger, your sorrow even, and say thank you? 

What I want my struggling friends to get from this ridiculous Stacy post, is that it is okay if you don't have a Happy Thanksgiving...as long you have a Thanksgiving.  You don't have to clean up for this holiday, you don't have to put on the happy face pretending that you wouldn't change a thing in your life.  You don't need to complain or bemoan your existence either, I'm not advocating that.  I'm saying it is okay to honestly thank God while crying honest tears.  He already knows what is beneath the surface, don't pretend you are happy when you are not.  God is good all the time, the times are not always good.  In your own sacrifice of praise, you will be blessed for the obedience.   

Happy (or not) Thanksgiving to all!  

© 2014 Stacy Rapp

God's Not Dead Review

Six months plus after the release of God's Not Dead and I have finally had the chance to see it.  I have to say that I did not have high hopes for liking the film.  I heard much the same as I heard before I saw Fireproof or Courageous.  You know things such as, "For a christian film, it's really good."  Whenever I hear that qualifying statement that the encapsulation of story, characterization, acting, and production quality is good for a Christian movie, I just cringe.  I translate it as, well, it's still not going to be good, but it's not as bad as most of the ones you have seen already.

Great then! Let's watch it! So I did.  I wrote the following notes on my phone: Merger(pronunciation), Mina and the old lady are not believable as family, the premise itself would never happen - at least not without protest, reporter is cliche', parked in front of a handicap space, church scene in time of trial/hardship - cliche', pastor looks shady, forced the scene of the kid going into the sister's room(poltergeistesque), breakup scene is insane, car scene, glad they showed the Muslim father in sorrow also, sister is not believable and the relationship with the professor is forced, Dean Cane is one dimensional, what man says "freshen up".

I never thought God was dead, but I do believe that the integrity of Christian based story telling is.  To be fair, maybe not dead, but definitely in critical condition.  This film just isn't good.  I didn't want to have to come to that conclusion, but it is the only one I have.  The premise itself is not believable.  The purpose of a philosophy class is to discuss the questions such as the purpose of life, how we got here, the nature of the universe, etc.  While there are some really jerky, condescending, intellectually snobbish professors, part of their job is to discuss with students the questions they have about this world.  No chemistry professor would ban the periodic table from discussion.  This question of intelligent design, metaphysical vs. physical, etc. are the elements that make up the periodic table of philosophy.  The premise is forced.  If the character of the professor were a real person, he wouldn't be teaching in any institution of higher learning worthy of charging a dollar for tuition.

Throughout the entire film the characterization is weak and one dimensional.  The main character is good, the girlfriend is selfish, the pastor is struggling to find purpose, the reporter is jaded, the businessman is a jerk, the professor is condescending and angry.  We get it! But what of the character arc for each actor.  Evey scene, forced relationship, plot twist, and piece of dialogue was only there to get us to the end of the movie, which surprise, ends in the "put that in your pipe and smoke it" ending where every question ever raised against the Christian belief is somehow answered, and everyone's eyes are opened.  Praise be! The blind will see.  All this done while a montage, complete with a very long and unnecessary music video that justifies the presence of the Newsboys as headliners, plays out to wrap things up. Perhaps what can best summarize the characterization failings is that I only found the car rental guy to be believable as  person I would meet in real life.  He is in two or three scenes and was a refreshing presence.   In the breakup scene in which the reporter tells the jerky businessman she has cancer, he gets mad because he just told her he made partner, and breaks up with her at the table.  All the people I was watching the movie with laughed because even though there are people that are selfish, and would break up with someone when they are sick, it most often would not be done that quickly.  No, beat, no inward struggle, no dialogue to pull it out, just well this is great, sorry you are sick, but I'm awesome and you are killing my mojo! For the sake of moving the story along, the writers chose to condense this to one scene and make it awkward to the point of being funny.  Whenever you laugh at horrible news you know there is a massive disconnect. 

This brings me to the execution of the characterization.  Acting with an agenda in mind is most often, if not always, detrimental to the art of acting.  Even people who play evil characters need to find some sort of reason to make them say their lines and do what they do.  The actor needs to understand the character.  When you can tell the characters who are meant to be evil are still being played by actors that want to help prove the point of the entire film instead of portray a character honestly, the whole thing will crumble like Milli Vanilli in a power outage.  Even in Christian films the women's characters are given to beautiful women with less than stellar acting chops.  Stop this! Watch British films, real actors, some gorgeous, some not, play characters that are believable.  Hire good actors! And more that that, give the good actors, good lines and storylines.

The writers, producers, directors, actors, anyone who read the screenplay, saw the dailies, delivered food to the set, there are so many places this film could have been salvaged.  Why are you wasting time with the Newsboys when you have characters to develop?  Stop the save the world with one movie mentality.  Make a really great movie about good characterization, acted out in a believable manner.  Real everyday struggles and how we deal with them.  Difficulties that don't always go away even when you believe in Jesus, these are the types of things that will get people to pay attention.  And the reason is because we can believe that kind of story.  We don't need to see the world's problems solved and wrapped up in a bow by the end of the film.  When we want that, we'll go watch Full House. 

People are by nature and design very complicated. If we want Christians and non Christians alike to relate to the movies we want them to see, we need to be real!
So, put that in your pipe and smoke it, or don't.  But for the love of all, if you do, please portray it honestly and with integrity of storytelling. 

Delayed Response

While I understand that fundamentalist Christians can sometimes speak truth with all the grace of an atomic bomb, I do not understand the anger at a belief founded in centuries old traditions, whose tenants are well known.  It is understood that most Christians will interpret the bible certain ways.  To say these are all right is not the issue.  Right is right outside of anyone who believes it or disagrees with it.  Truth is truth, whether treated like a lie or not and conversely, lies do not become true just because you believe it. 

The issue is that if we are to have freedom to believe something is wrong and another has the freedom to believe something is right, can’t we understand that the context, settings, and audience of the conversations will evoke a certain response. 

Being angry that many Christians believe a certain way about biblical principles is like serving lobster bisque and pork chops at a Jewish wedding and wondering why the guests might be upset.  Though a few may not have an issue with it, most would.     

To be angry that a historically bible based service organization strayed from the common understandings of biblical interpretations is a natural response founded in logic.  People sign up to support an organization that aligns with their beliefs.  When the organization makes changes to a policy and no longer agrees with the original understanding, they have broken trust, and changed the agreement.   

Now, to those who thought this decision was a good one, and were excited and encouraged about it, I feel sorry that you were yanked around a bit this week.  I would like to say, that the people on the opposite side, feel the same way.  The biggest tragedy of World Vision’s statements this last week is that no one can trust the organization now.  If you believe in something, stand for it and own it.